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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213700">twists and turns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein'>zimtlein</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Awkwardness, Crack, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, Not Season/Series 04 Compliant, Sexual Humor, Twister (game), boob reveal, yes I'm serious</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:40:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing Twister at the age of twenty-one can be pretty awkward. It can also lead to suddenly groping your very cute, <em>very</em> platonic friend’s boob, apparently.</p><p>Adrien isn’t exactly complaining.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>favorites</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlynmiro/gifts">marlynmiro</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Marlyn gave me a hilarious prompt (Adrien and Marinette play Twister and things get awkward), and she brainstormed a lot of ideas with me, so half of this fic is actually her doing! And the other half is a huge thank-you gift to her once again for being such a supportive and great friend.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever so slowly, Adrien realizes there are several glaring problems he can’t ignore. No matter how hard he tries to. And, damn, he really, really tries.</p><p>Number one on the list: Marinette. Well, not her herself. She’s never a problem. She’s the perfect addition to make everything look brighter and sunnier, after all. With her harmonious laugh, and her silky hair, and the way she smiles at him from time to time in a way only she can.</p><p>Because that’s just the kind of very good friend she is, obviously.</p><p>Also, she’s wearing yoga pants. Incredibly tight yoga pants.</p><p>But Adrien is not a creep, of course, so he won’t stare at Marinette’s ass… -ets. Very toned assets, if he may add. She is bent over the couch’s backrest, kneeling on the cushion. Does she work out? She has to. And he is so not going to think about Marinette working out, muscles twitching, sweat dripping down her skin, and –</p><p>Yep, not going there at all.</p><p>So he totally doesn’t almost jump out of his skin when a loud bang sounds next to him. Though Nino’s look kind of tells him that Adrien was just about to be caught in his very professional act of analyzing Marinette’s, well, workout routine. And it becomes pretty apparent why that is. Because it only takes two more seconds until Marinette turns her head to them, a loose sweatshirt hiding most of her curves. Curves that Adrien isn’t thinking about anyway. Nah, not him.</p><p>“Twister?” she says, eyebrows furrowed.</p><p>“Twister?” Adrien repeats, finally looking at the object Nino brought. A box, aforementioned word imprinted on the front. Wrinkling his forehead, he leans back slightly.</p><p>“Twister,” Alya confirms as she slumps down on the couch next to Adrien. “Because, honestly, peeps? We are getting boring. Watching movies all the time? Ugh. When was the last time we played some nice game? Like, changed it up a bit?”</p><p>Marinette draws up an eyebrow, turning around until she can sit and bend her knees on the sofa. “At that party where you yourself suggested king’s cup?”</p><p>Adrien unwittingly makes a face at that memory. “Yeah, thanks again, Alya.”</p><p>“It’s an absolute honor to drink from the king’s cup itself, so don’t make that face, sunshine! You’re more than welcome!”</p><p>Nino sniffs, a hand planted over his heart. “Man, still makes me emotional. Seein’ ya chug it all down like that. A brave soul. A true warrior.”</p><p>“And you only choked twice! That was really impressive,” Marinette offers with a warm smile that he mechanically returns.</p><p>Yeah, great memories and all that.</p><p>“But didn’t we play Twister when we were, like, six?” Marinette frowns. “How exactly are we supposed to do this now without it getting …” Something like realization dawns on her face. Her cheeks turn pink. It’s so adorable that Adrien has to bite back a grin. Platonically adorable, that is. Because, friend. Yeah.</p><p>Also, he has no idea what she is talking about.</p><p>In return, Alya’s eyes start to shimmer. “Exactly.”</p><p>A silent conversation ensues between the girls. Adrien would like nothing more than to join in on their telepathic exchange. He has to settle on sending Nino a helpless look, but even his best friend’s face is drenched in something like glee.</p><p>Okay, getting scary.</p><p>“Sorry, guys,” Adrien therefore admits, rubbing his neck. “But I never, uh, played Twister before?”</p><p>“You didn’t,” Marinette breathes dumbfoundedly.</p><p>“You didn’t,” Alya breathes gleefully.</p><p>“Oh, my dear bro. My browskiest of bros.” Even Nino’s smile seems a bit too gloating for Adrien’s taste. “It’s the exact reason I told ya to come in something comfy, y’know.”</p><p>“Ah.” Adrien nods without understanding anything. Because really, he didn’t even ask for the reason. No need to at all. He basically jumped at the chance of wearing that grey tee that is <em>just </em>one size too small, highlighting the years of hard work on his body. And joggers that leave just enough to the imagination, a pair he knows fits him perfectly. Hey, he isn’t a model for nothing, right?</p><p>Not that he wanted to impress anyone in particular with that. No, ha, not him.</p><p>He dutifully listens to the rules Nino presents him with. All the while, Marinette is throwing in tiny protests that are easily ignored. Adrien wonders just what is so bad about a game of people trying to maneuver around each other. Even when Alya spreads out the surprisingly small mat, he keeps wondering. There can’t be anything too embarrassing about limbs being tangled and bodies accidentally knocking against each other and having to stay in a position for more than a minute even if it’s especially awkward or –</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Okay.</p><p>And problem number two on the list is slowly coming to light.</p><p>“No teams,” Alya announces. “Let’s make the first round extra challenging, shall we?”</p><p>Marinette frowns at her. “But the official rules –”</p><p>“The official rules have no idea! Marinette, this is war. Are there any rules in war?”</p><p>“Uh – we’re just playing Twister, though?”</p><p>“Exactly, there aren’t! So, no teams, got it?”</p><p>Marinette holds up her hands. “No teams, I guess.”</p><p>Getting even scarier there.</p><p>They decide on playing without the spinner, as operating it would have been too much a hassle in later parts of the game, Nino ensures him. Even though he can’t understand why, initially. The way Marinette tugs at her sweater nervously before Nino gives them their first command isn’t lost on him, but hey, what can go wrong?</p><p>So, left hand on red it is. Easy enough.</p><p>Alya catches Adrien’s eyes for a moment, a smirk on her lips. “Left foot on green,” she announces.</p><p>Still okay. Still perfectly manageable, if not slightly uncomfortable, seeing as the green spots are on the other side of the mat. He is slowly becoming aware of Marinette’s hand just next to his. She is assuming a way easier pose than him, a quick look tells him. When their eyes meet for a tiny second, she averts her gaze again, cheeks reddening the slightest bit.</p><p>Cute. Uh, for a friend, that is.</p><p>“Your turn,” Alya tells him.</p><p>Okay. Not too complicated, he guesses, and not too many options to choose from either. “Right foot on blue?” he therefore announces. Moves accordingly. Realizes in the last possible moment that thus, he comes face to face with Marinette herself, so close he has to stop himself from shying away. And the sudden flush on her cheeks doesn’t help things, really.</p><p>“Oh – wow – hi!” She grins at him stiffly. “So nose, huh? I mean – close, I mean close!”</p><p>“Oh, bestie, dear,” Alya lilts from the left. “Believe me, you’ll get even more close and personal.”</p><p>Marinette’s cheeks turn even redder, and that’s somehow way too adorable, and he has to force himself to avert his gaze slightly. “Oh, uh, yeah! Personal. Personal is good.”</p><p>“Totally agreed, dude.” Just why exactly is Nino snickering that weirdly?</p><p>But honestly, that game isn’t half bad. It’s even fun, somehow. His muscles are used to the strain (thank you, secret superhero identity, at least you’re good for one thing), and it’s not hard for him to stay in more complicated positions. And when Alya calls for their right hands to be on yellow, Adrien doesn’t hesitate one second, quickly moving his palm to that spot.</p><p>And landing on something warm in the process. A delicate hand underneath his, skin incredibly soft.</p><p>He sharply looks up, being met by blue eyes. His first impulse is to jump away immediately, but he holds himself back so he doesn’t start a chain reaction of falling bodies; and instead, he regards the way Marinette is bent over the mat. Hands balancing next to each other, one leg resting underneath Alya, the other foot at the other end of the mat. It almost looks like a yoga pose. One she’d need a lot of strength and stretching for. Seems like Marinette does a lot of stretching anyway. Seems like Marinette doesn’t have a problem with any pose, really. Seems like her workout routine includes very thorough stretching, with her long legs, her slim body, arms upwards, exposing her flat stomach –</p><p>“Two hands on the same circle,” Alya comments. “Spicy, but totally against the rules unless all other circles are occupied. Which they’re clearly not. Just saying.”</p><p>“Ah, shoot,” Adrien quickly replies, glad of the bit of distraction. Distraction from his very platonic thoughts, that is. Because a friend should care about the wellbeing of another friend, right? That’s how friendship works! And if that involves a whole lot of imagining his friend stretching, well, then so be it!</p><p>So, totally not feeling bad about it, he reaches back with his hand, landing on another circle.</p><p>“’kay, bro. Gonna let that one slide.” Nino’s arms are clearly shaking, but he’s still putting on a brave smile. “Jus’, please, <em>please </em>release us from that torturous position, will ya?”</p><p>“And to think you can be so flexible in other areas of your life,” Alya lilts.</p><p>“Well, sometimes I’ve got the right motivation, babe.”</p><p>Okay, TMI. “All right, got it then, left foot on blue,” he announces quickly. In the process of shuffling his foot, he hears Alya huff as their legs hit against each other, and she grunts in annoyance.</p><p>“Oh, come on now! Stop trying to sabotage me!”</p><p>“I’m not sabotaging you,” he returns, trying to look at her over his shoulder.</p><p>“You clearly are! Look, I know that game is important and stuff, but there is no need to get violent!” As she says this, Alya knocks her leg against his with so much strength Adrien yelps.</p><p>“Hey! You just said –”</p><p>“I don’t care what I said! War, Agreste. This is war!”</p><p>“O-okay, right hand on green!” Marinette jumps in.</p><p>She moves her hand as far away from him as possible, back turning further to him in the process. Great. Not as if Adrien can even concentrate on it too much, because behind him, Nino’s elbow hits his thigh. “Hey!” he calls over his shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry, dude, you’re kinda in the way, and I sure as hell won’t lose! Like my wise girlfriend said, rules and war and stuff.”</p><p>Fair enough. Adrien wants to jokingly reply, but by then, problem number two becomes glaringly clear. Because before his hand can reach the targeted circle, another hand suddenly shoots forward, taking the spot. Accompanied by a snicker he’d recognize anywhere.</p><p>Thanks, Alya, he guesses.</p><p>He has no choice but to reach for another circle, his whole body being forced to shift forward too in that way, and he realizes that’s a really, really bad move. Like, a move that he’d like to take back, but can’t. Like, a move that makes him mentally list up all rules Alya mentioned just to find one tiny loophole. So, the worst move he could have made in terms of “don’t make your friend uncomfortable, you idiot”.</p><p>But it’s kind of too late as his crotch is smashed against perfectly toned cheeks owned by no one other than his cute – platonically cute! – friend, Marinette.</p><p>Who releases a squeaky noise that makes his heart jump up to his throat.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Okay. So, no problem. So, nothing to worry about. But he can’t really move back without either throwing Nino behind him to the floor or landing straight on his own perky ass – god damn it, his <em>butt</em> in the process. And with the way Marinette’s arm suddenly starts to shake, her face hidden from him in this position, he is pretty sure she isn’t all too pleased by this situation. Uh, <em>happy</em>, he means. Yeah.</p><p>Panicking, he tries to bring at least a bit of distance between her – you know – and his – you see – and when he fails, the sound of giggling coming from Alya becomes even more prominent.</p><p>“I’m so – Marinette – sorry, are you okay?” he asks, his voice just an octave too high.</p><p>“Don’t hurry about me! I mean, worry, no need to, I’m wonderful – perfect – good, fine, I’m fine!” she squeaks back.</p><p>“Great!” Nino sounds way too amused for Adrien’s taste. “Then, dudes, left hand on yellow!”</p><p>Okay. Perfect opportunity to back away again, so he –</p><p>Another hand lands on the circle he was aiming at before he can even as much as move.</p><p>“Alya!” it escapes Adrien.</p><p>“What?” she says innocently, meeting his eyes over his shoulder. “I’m just playing the game like it’s supposed to be played, that’s all.”</p><p>And taking away his only chance escaping from this awkward situation with Marinette. Awesome. No choice again but to move forward – but Marinette doesn’t seem to think in the same terms, because her hand lands on the spot he just occupied, body coming closer, and her hips –</p><p>Her hips grind against his, hard.</p><p>Okay, he’s going to internally die. Just like that. Oh well. At least he had a nice life. Also, not the worst way to die. He’s pretty sure god will at least give him a high-five for that one.</p><p>“I’m so sorry!” he hears her say, high-pitched and just as panicked as he is feeling.</p><p>“I’m – no, I’m sorry!” he returns immediately, trying not to think about how her hips aren’t moving away and how he is practically bent over her and how red the tips of her ears turn and how even her legs seem to start quivering slightly and god damn it damn it <em>damn it</em> –</p><p>He prays to every god out there Marinette is not able to tell that his body seems to be really fond of the close proximity she caused. Like, really fond.</p><p>He’s starting to sweat in sheer agony.</p><p>“Hey, guys, concentrate,” Alya tells them, wriggling the leg that is currently trapped beneath Marinette’s upper body. “Left foot on green!”</p><p>Magical words, it seems. Marinette moves so fast it’s almost a blur, the whole motion elegant despite the panic that sat in her voice seconds ago, and she successfully gets away from him. Thank fucking god. Realizing that he’ll have to move too, he strictly ignores the half-mast between his legs and tries his best to reposition his leg without anyone noticing anything about his tiny problem. In the process, he bumps his knee against Nino’s shoulder, though.</p><p>“Bro!” Nino calls out.</p><p>“Sorry!” he calls back.</p><p>“Bro, don’t be some sore loser!”</p><p>“I swear, that was an accident!”</p><p>“Dude, that’s the fourth time you say that!”</p><p>“Also, it’s your turn, sunshine,” Alya chimes in sweetly.</p><p>“Uh – I dunno – left hand on blue!”</p><p>“You’ve got a thing for blue, do ya?” Nino’s teasing undertone doesn’t really make sense, but Adrien blushes anyway.</p><p>“I, um, no? It’s just –”</p><p>Any answer gets stuck in his throat when Marinette’s sudden screech reaches him. In a first reflex, he turns to her, and the movement causes his hand to change targets in a matter of seconds. They should all be playing against each other, but before Adrien knows it, his arm is supporting Marinette’s right leg, her knee bent over his upper arm, and she’s bracing herself in a sort of really awkward, twisted position, and the worst thing is –</p><p>His face is right between her legs, very, very close to a spot he cannot let himself think about. Thighs having parted to reach the correct circles, the heat of her skin underneath tight yoga plants burning him up.</p><p>He suddenly feels like his knees will give out any moment. Her eyes are widened as she looks at him, and he politely looks back. Not daring to let his eyes wander further down. Not acknowledging how dry his throat suddenly feels.</p><p>“Thanks for … for having me,” she says, voice feeble. Her cheeks turn beet-red. “For saving me, I mean!”</p><p>He wants to reply, but he has a hunch that all that will escape him are some senseless noises. Alya is quicker than him, though. “Yeah, that’s not how you’re supposed to play this game! Don’t have her, Adrien! Woops, I totally meant ‘save her’.”</p><p>At that little jab, Marinette’s leg seems to tense over the support of his upper arm. Her toned, slender leg. He swallows hard, forcing his eyes to latch onto anything but Marinette’s perfect figure right on display before him. Not imagining what it would be like if they weren’t on a Twister mat, but on a soft bed. Not imagining what it would be like to swing her legs over his shoulders for good, hearing her squeal and giggle beneath him. Not imagining what it would be like to dive forward at once, devotedly kissing soft skin and tasting her sweetness, her little laughs turning to gasps, then to moans. Beautiful face contorting into an expression of wanting, his name spilling from alluring lips, tossing her head back as her thighs would hold him in place, and –</p><p>Okay, okay. Boner.</p><p>Okay. No. Stop thinking, brain. Thanks.</p><p>“Right foot on red!” Marinette cuts through his thoughts, and he can only watch in wonder as her leg swings over his head, landing on a red circle with an easiness that almost has him gasp. Her legs stretched, her upper body bent down, her hands easily reaching circles before her – and her butt perfectly accentuated by her pose. Before he can keep staring like an idiot, he quickly moves his foot too. Hoping to god nobody decides to have a glance at his crotch (be cool about it, just be cool. And don’t look at her perfectness for too long. Pretend it’s going to painfully burn your eyes. Yeah, perfect plan).</p><p>And he nearly releases a very manly squeal when Alya slides in just in front of him, her face close as she winks.</p><p>“Oh, hey there, handsome,” she lilts. “Having a great view from here, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he drawls. Blinks. “I mean, no. I mean, what?”</p><p>“Left hand on green, dudes!” Nino says behind him.</p><p>Escaping Alya’s careful watch, Adrien reaches forward. Of course, Alya is faster than him though, occupying his desired goal yet again, and he is forced to slide even closer to her. While forgetting that he would have to recalculate his plans. So of course the inevitable happens.</p><p>This time, he isn’t presented with a whole load of perfect Marinette, though. Because destiny loves to make fun of him, it seems, and with a sound of surprise, his face lands on something very warm and very soft.</p><p>“Oh, wow,” he hears Alya say, and she’s somehow way too close for his liking. “Very bold move, sunshine. And in front of my boyfriend, even!”</p><p>Oh. Oh god. Oh god, that’s her boobs. Alya’s very soft, very comfortable boobs.</p><p>He suddenly can understand very well just why Nino keeps raving about them like crazy every time they get drunk.</p><p>Adrien’s cheeks flame up in a matter of seconds. He tries to move away, but that’s kinda difficult when the only option would be the crook of Alya’s neck. So instead, he stutters a muffled “Oh my god Alya I’m so sorry” against her soft skin.</p><p>“Oh, I think you’re enjoying this,” she returns, the grin noticeable in her words alone.</p><p>“Is he? Yeah, totally called it,” Nino laughs behind him.</p><p>“I’m not!” Adrien shoots back, trying to move his face and only burying his nose further between two very soft mounds. Oh god in heaven, just what exactly did he do to deserve this? “In fact, it’s anything but pleasant! Very uncomfortable!”</p><p>“Woah, dude. You’re talking about my girlfriend here.”</p><p>“Sorry! Okay, okay, it is comfortable, and I’m very conflicted right now!”</p><p>“Okay, handsome. You shall be released.” He so doesn’t like the way she emphasizes that last word, though. “Left hand on yellow.”</p><p>Adrien almost groans in relief when he is allowed to remove his face from Alya’s (really, honestly incredible) boobs, instead moving to touch a yellow circle – when he is suddenly met by Marinette’s face, so close that he releases a little scream. She is frowning at him, and the sudden panic arising in him makes his foot slip from the mat, his knee landing on the floor with a loud clunk.</p><p>Oh well, so much for that.</p><p>“Oh my god, Adrien!” Marinette blurts out, reaching forward in a seemingly first reflex and losing her balance right away, setting off a chain reaction. Because she crashes right into Alya, who crashes right into Adrien (smothering his face yet again with her boobs, of course), who crashes right into Nino. They all become a tangled mess of limbs, Adrien’s world having gone dark underneath bouncy, soft goodness, until Alya gives a war cry.</p><p>“You just made all of us lose, Marinette!”</p><p>“I’m sorry! That wasn’t –”</p><p>“Nino and I were perfectly fine, so I’ll ban you two to the sidelines! Now!”</p><p>It takes some time until Adrien is released from his squishy prison. He can’t even complain anymore, not really. Defeated, he exchanges a look with Marinette, eventually standing up with sighs and –</p><p>Oh, yeah. Problem number three: very prominent proof that all his thinking capacity wandered dangerously low in the previous twenty minutes. And his very comfy, very soft joggers don’t make that particular problem any easier to ignore.</p><p>Shit. He’ll need a plan.</p><p>Very inconspicuously, Adrien stiffly moves away, sitting down with his back to the mat. He can practically feel three confused pairs of eyes on him, and he sends all of them a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this, guys!”</p><p>“Woah, bro, is it that appalling to watch us?”</p><p>“No! No, absolutely not! I’m just – I don’t want to put pressure on you, that’s all!”</p><p>Alya coughs. “Maybe it’s anything but appalling, if you catch my drift.”</p><p>“W-what?” Marinette butts in before Adrien can even protest.  “I think that’s very considerate of him!”</p><p>“Thank you, Marinette!”</p><p>“You’re welcome!” Steps behind him. A warm hand on his shoulder. He freezes up in an instant when her soft voice sounds close to him. “But seriously, are you all – oh.”</p><p>Oh? Oh what? He lifts his head a bit to look at her face, and Marinette’s hand shies away immediately, and her cheeks turn red once again as her eyes are on his lap.</p><p>Oh, great.</p><p>“Oh – w-woah, I suddenly –” Marinette coughs loudly. “I so do not want to see Alya and Nino going at it like some doofuses in love, haha, do you, Adrien? You surely do not, I am convinced!”</p><p>“You too, Brutus?” Alya calls out.</p><p>God damn it. Torn between the overwhelming desire to sink into the floor, fast, and to run away, even faster, Adrien clears his throat several times, ignoring the heat on his face. “Wow, I’m so very glad you feel the same way, Marinette! I was afraid I would hurt their feelings if I were to speak the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!”</p><p>“What a coincidence! In that case, how about the two of us go and hide in my room until the couple is finished playing their game and determining a winner?” As she says this, Marinette is grinning at him so stiffly one corner of her mouth is starting to twitch. It’s no accident she is shielding him from the other two, Adrien realizes as she helps him stand up, pointedly not looking downwards.</p><p>Which he is incredibly grateful for.</p><p>God, she is amazing. And so understanding. And so –</p><p>And she saw his boner.</p><p>Okay, nope, back to wanting to disappear once again.</p><p>“Hey, wait, Marinette!” Alya calls after them. “We’d need a referee to –”</p><p>Too late, though. Still working as the perfect shield, Marinette shuffles towards her room close to him (too close, too close, think of something weird, just anything – raisins. Raisins are weird and taste weird and why does Marinette have to smell so <em>good</em>, god damn it, nope, doesn’t help). Adrien shows Nino and Alya another thumbs-up. “I’m sure you’ll manage!”</p><p>“Yup!” Marinette confirms. “Totally! I believe in you two!”</p><p>“Okay, bye!” Adrien adds joyfully.</p><p>“Okay, bye!” Marinette adds necessarily.</p><p>And with that, the door to her room is shut behind them.</p><p>Okay, so. Problem number three isn’t going down anytime soon, Adrien realizes. Especially not when he is in a room owned specifically by the problem’s source. Her scent faintly lingering in the air, photos of her and her friends (and him! Oh gosh! She’s so cute) adorning a pinboard above her desk, her bed in near proximity. Her bed, in which she sleeps. And – sleeps. Only sleeps.</p><p>God damn it. He tries to think of poor little kitties drenched in rain, meowing helplessly with their big cute eyes. Just as big as Marinette’s. But not as deeply blue, and not surrounded by long lashes, and no pink lips that can form the cutest pout, and …</p><p>This doesn’t help at all.</p><p>Especially not when he risks a peek at Marinette, discovering her staring at him, a frown on her face again. And it only takes seconds until she points at his crotch. Thank god that a good meter is separating them, or else her hand could’ve brushed –</p><p>Wow, he is starting to worry himself.</p><p>“Is that because of Alya’s boobs?” she spits out, face so red she resembles a ripe tomato by this point.</p><p>The words don’t really sink in right away. Because she looks really determined, and that’s kinda hot, and he needs to get his mind out of his gutter soon or he’ll spontaneously combust on the spot. Uh, yeah, maybe in … in every sense of the word. Please, no. So, after thoroughly analyzing her accusation, he decides on the most profound answer he could possibly express.</p><p>“Huh – ah – wha …?”</p><p>“Because,” still frowning, still pointing at his very much prominent tent, Marinette glares at him, “I know her boobs are pretty much amazing. D-cup, can you believe it? They are incredibly soft, and great to be smothered between. Yes, I’m talking from experience. So I could totally understand.”</p><p>That conversation somehow took a turn that makes him forget to be embarrassed about his arousal in the first place. He is about to blurt into her face that <em>nope, actually it’s your cute ass that did this to me</em>, when she takes a bold step closer. He almost stumbles back, but she is quicker than him, gripping his wrist with a strength that makes him squeak.</p><p>“But just so you know,” she continues, voice so full of power he starts to quiver, “I have boobs too, and they might not be as impressive, but I don’t condone boob discrimination!”</p><p>And then, something absolutely magical happens.</p><p>Marinette lifts his hand. Marinette guides his hand. Marinette doesn’t let go of his hand until it’s planted on her chest. Specifically, her left boob. And even through the layer of her thin sweatshirt, he can feel that she isn’t wearing a bra.</p><p>She isn’t wearing a bra.</p><p>He extensively thanks every deity that ever existed (or not so much existed, he won’t discriminate).</p><p>The moment is beautiful. Breathtaking. Fairy dust all around them. Adrien freezes in place, unable to believe his luck. His hand is on Marinette’s boob. His hand is on Marinette’s perfect, beautiful boob. He doesn’t dare move, drawing the moment out for all it’s worth.</p><p>Until his eyes slowly meet hers again. Until he sees all color leave her cheeks, eyes widening, and her hand flies from his wrist. She freezes just as much as he does. From outside, Alya and Nino’s laughing seems like something foreign, something alien.</p><p>He should remove his hand too. He really should. But his dick is twitching happily at the thought of getting to know Marinette’s perfect boob better, and before he knows it, he squeezes lightly.</p><p>It leads to a reaction that almost has his knees buckle.</p><p>Marinette’s eyes close for a moment, and she gasps, and her hand returns to his wrist – not gripping, but softly holding on – and bit by bit, her cheeks turn pinker. More and more so until he squeezes again. Soft, just the right size to fit into his hand, her hardening nipple poking his palm. His thoughts start to swirl. Especially when she opens her eyes again, looking at him with parted lips, with an expression that almost <em>begs</em> for more.</p><p>And who is he to decline?</p><p>His thumb grazes her nipple, and the sound she releases – oh god, that little shuddering something, her hand suddenly pressing his fingers closer again, her head falling back the tiniest bit, and he suddenly needs her closer, needs to feel her, hand travelling down to the hem of her sweatshirt, feeling for naked soft skin, and –</p><p>A knock at the door. “Okay, sweeties, no idea what you are doing in here, but up for another round? Nino won, can you believe it?”</p><p>And reality sinks in with a loud crash. Literally – because with a squeal, Marinette lunges herself away from him, crashing right into her chair in the moment, maneuvering it against the wardrobe. Adrien’s hand is still hovering in the air, and his little problem is still very much present.</p><p>Together with the realization of what he just did.</p><p>He chokes. “Oh god, Marinette, I’m so –”</p><p>“I didn’t want you to – I mean, not that I’m complaining –”</p><p>“I’m not complaining either! I just didn’t want to –”</p><p>“Oh – oh my – I should’ve known that you didn’t <em>want</em> –”</p><p>“That’s not – I was just –”</p><p>“Okay, children,” Alya’s voice sounds again. “Take your time.”</p><p>“Time taken!” Marinette squeaks back, wrenching the door open with so much force that it meets the wall with a loud bang. “Let’s go! I’m in!”</p><p>Remembering that little problem Alya isn’t really supposed to see, Adrien quickly turns his back on her, showing a thumbs-up. “I’ll be there! Give me ten minutes! Thanks!”</p><p>Snorting, Alya closes the door again. That’s comment enough, he guesses. Okay, ten minutes are totally enough. He glares at his crotch, willing it to calm down. It was just a boob! A very squishy, lovely boob! A boob that belongs to Marinette herself. A boob she wanted him to touch – initially, that is. And a single squeeze made her react like that. And a single squeeze made her weak, made her gasp like that.</p><p>Just the thought of touching her like that without any kind of barrier in the way –</p><p>Doesn’t help.</p><p>Cursing under his breath, he continues glaring at his crotch.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Tuesday. And Tuesdays are reserved for either two activities. Possibility number one: going for ice cream if an akuma’s ass was successfully kicked (yes, even in winter, even when it’s snowing like crazy, even when your tongue freezes on icy goodness the moment you try to take a taste – there’s never a time ice cream doesn’t fit the temperatures, thank you very much). Possibility number two: only get in a quick chat if Hawk Moth decides to have mercy on them. Needless to say, Chat Noir prefers the first option. Not the akuma part, but the ice cream part, of course. And luckily for him, just for once, Hawk Moth seems to be on his side, too.</p><p>Because watching Ladybug devotedly lick drops of melting ice cream off her fingers, brows furrowed in concentration? Definitely going into his mental “save for later” collection.</p><p>For strictly educational purposes, of course.</p><p>“So,” she mumbles while tapping her tongue against her strawberry ice cream, “how’s it going with that girl you told me about?”</p><p>He keeps staring. “Yeah, tastes great.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>At her look, he jumps, realizing half his ice cream has already melted over his suit at this point. Uh, yeah, he guesses that serves him right. Ladybug keeps watching him with a funny expression as he tries to save his suit with a whole load of napkins. Late afternoon sun shines down on them, and at least nobody is able to see him making a fool of himself on one of the highest rooftops of Paris. Nobody but Ladybug herself, that is.</p><p>So much for that.</p><p>“Ah, yeah, girl!” he eventually replies, nodding wildly. “Yeah, um, girl. Not too great.”</p><p>She keeps watching him. Her slight amusement is somehow making him nervous. “Really? Did something happen?”</p><p>He sighs. Nibbles his ice cream. Ladybug, the fierce battle machine that she is, chews off a whole bite. Yes, <em>chews</em>. How half her brain doesn’t turn into a block of ice immediately is beyond him.</p><p>Maybe it’s stupid to come out with the truth, but anyway. It’s Ladybug, the girl he was in love with for years. The girl he could totally let go of. The girl that doesn’t slip into his dreams every other night and does things to him he wouldn’t be able to utter without becoming a blabbering, flushing mess. The girl he vaguely told about his very vague feelings for Marinette one night when Ladybug kept raving about <em>the boy</em>. Exactly, that boy she is still in love with. The same one who is seemingly still too blind to recognize what an amazing girl is just waiting for him to carry her into the sunset.</p><p>Anyway, yeah. It’s Ladybug. And Ladybug is a girl. So Ladybug knows how girls think. Because girls should know how girls think. Because that’s totally not a stupid generalization, nuh-uh. Okay, maybe it’s stupid. Okay, it’s definitely stupid, but his mouth is already moving and there are already sounds coming out of it and he can’t stop himself until the whole sentence sits there in the silence between them.</p><p>“I touched her … chest.”</p><p>Ladybug keeps staring at him, chewing off another absurd bite of ice cream. “Congrats.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Chat Noir thinks for a second. “Wait, no.”</p><p>“I don’t think I need any more details.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s not what you think!”</p><p>Drawing up an eyebrow, Ladybug takes a bite off her cone. “You didn’t enjoy it?”</p><p>Chat gasps. “Every single second felt more magical than the last! The <em>peak</em> of my whole day!” His grin feels painful. He drops it immediately. “Yes, wow, I’m going to take that one back.”</p><p>She nods. “So it is exactly what I think.”</p><p>He resists the urge to go into hiding and never turn up again. Instead, he puts on a brave face. “I actually need your advice, LB. Please? Pretty please?”</p><p>“Sure,” she mumbles back. “Whatever. What’s the problem?”</p><p>Chat gulps, gesturing to make it clear just how complicated this whole ordeal is. Yeah, it is, he swears. Totally complicated. “It’s just – for whatever reason – you know, she took my hand, and – and pushed it on her boob. Like – bam. So, I only … I just kinda followed her lead. And that’s kind of weird, right? Because she seemed like – uh, Ladybug?”</p><p>For whatever unfathomable, incomprehensible, bizarre, confusing, entirely absurd reason, she turns redder and redder as she keeps looking at him. Her mouth opens and closes several times before she grips his shoulder, hard. Her eyes are wide, her breaths shallow.</p><p>“And that was weird?” she whispers.</p><p>He suddenly feels like his answer will mean <em>everything</em>, and that little bit of pressure doesn’t make him sweat at all. “I – well – uh – I mean, it was pretty great nonetheless.”</p><p>“But she totally forced you?” Ladybug grips his shoulder harder. “And guys totally don’t like it when girls basically force them to grope boobs, right? Right? Does that mean …” Watery eyes keep looking at him. “It’s sexual harassment, isn’t it?”</p><p>Chat, having shoved half his cone into his mouth to escape the pressure of adding even more to that absurd conversation, chokes on his ice cream.</p><p>“Oh my god. Oh my freaking god. I just – do you think – if you were to, just very hypothetically, if you were forced to touch <em>my</em> boob … Would you enjoy it?”</p><p>He chokes so hard his soul leaves his body for a second.</p><p>“Oh no. I knew it. It’s the size, right?” Ladybug’s lower lip starts trembling. He has no idea what is happening, so he tries not to cough up half the cone again, instead trying his hardest to find his voice. “Too small, right? I mean, if they were just a bit bigger – I don’t know, I always liked my boobs! They are practical, okay? And – and just because they aren’t –”</p><p>“I would <em>die</em> to touch your boobs.”</p><p>He said it with all the sobriety he could conjure up. With determination, with a voice that speaks of an iron will. Sitting next to her, body close enough to feel her heat trickling over his own skin. And in that moment, he notices how flabbergasted her expression has turned.</p><p>Oh, uh. Maybe not the right thing to say.</p><p>“I mean – they’re perfect!” Chat nods furiously. “Absolutely perfect. Perfect size, and you know just how pretty they look from the side? Like, they have such a beautiful form!”</p><p>She keeps staring.</p><p>Oh god.</p><p>“Not that I ever – I never ogled you extensively for an inappropriately long period of time. I would never <em>think </em>of it. Just, sometimes, I wondered if they – they do jiggle a bit, but only in certain situations, and no, I was never wondering if you’re wearing something underneath your – I –”</p><p>She is still staring.</p><p>Oh, fuck.</p><p>“Look, the majority of boys – and girls – would definitely enjoy it!” he splutters wildly. “But not because of the boobs, per se – it’s the person attached to them that matters! I mean, who they are attached to, of course, I mean, it’s not about boobs, I’m more of a butt guy anyway, which in your case is still very – oh my god, please shut me up now.”</p><p>Her cheeks are still beet-red. He is still internally dying.</p><p>“So,” she drawls. “Do you think – if a guy liked me, he would also enjoy touching my boob, no matter the size?”</p><p>He releases a breath. “Exactly the philosophical wisdom I wanted to convey through my well-thought-out words.”</p><p>At that, she takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. “Oh, thank god. And I thought … Judging by his reaction …”</p><p>“His reaction?” Chat gasps. “Don’t tell me your boob got groped, too?”</p><p>Ladybug looks away. And Chat can totally still see her expression, because talking about her breasts doesn’t lead his brain to wanting to ogle her breasts. Because ogling Ladybug’s breasts is forbidden territory. Even if their form and curve really, really remind him of Marinette. Too small? Bah! They are perfect for her build. For her slim, yet feminine figure. For her long, toned legs able to assume poses that make Chat sweat. Is she working out? She must be. Doing yoga, maybe? A lot of it, surely. Just like –</p><p>Wait a second.</p><p>Before he can ponder this further, Ladybug speaks up again. “Look, I just wanted to remind him that I have boobs too! So I kinda grabbed his hand and kinda forced him to – oh my god. I’m horrible.”</p><p>Chat is sweating as an internal monologue of “her eyes are up there, buddy” echoes in his head. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t mind. Don’t rack it. Uh, um, sweat it.”</p><p>“But you said yourself it was weird when it happened to you!”</p><p>“Because I didn’t expect it!” He feels his whole face turn hot. “But it was still the experience of a lifetime, believe me. If she asked me to do it again, I definitely would.”</p><p>She startles visibly. “So, if I, maybe, want him to do that again … Uh, if I asked him … No, that would be stupid, wouldn’t it? Yes, it would be.”</p><p>“I bet you he wouldn’t say no.”</p><p>“But – no. No, no, I can’t just ask him to touch my boob!”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Oh my god, Chat, because! What would you do if I asked you?”</p><p>He narrows his eyes. “Is that a test?”</p><p>Groaning, she leans her head back. And reveals a very nice view of her really nice upper body. Oh, god damn his libido. “See. You’d react weirdly!”</p><p>“I’d touch it. Totally touch it. Should I touch it? I could touch it.”</p><p>Her head snaps back. “You wouldn’t.”</p><p>“I so would.”</p><p>“You so wouldn’t.”</p><p>Okay, what the hell is he doing? Maybe that’s his hazy imagination speaking. Okay, definitely is. Still, something in him moves him to lean a bit closer.</p><p>Scratch that, not <em>something</em>. Clearly his dick. Whatever, same difference at this point.</p><p>“Ask me,” he tells her. Grins. “Look at it as practice. If you can ask me, you sure as all hell can ask the boy of your dreams too. Right?”</p><p>She doesn’t avert her gaze. Doesn’t back away. Her cheeks are still reddened, but her eyes catch his with a kind of determination that makes him shiver. There, and he thinks he got her. Or not? Maybe not. Probably not. Probably –</p><p>“Touch me,” she grits out.</p><p>His shoulders tense. His whole body does. He expected a lot, but not for everything inside him to react to her like that. Because he convinced himself for months that this was never going to work, and it probably never will, and what the ever-loving hell is he getting himself into?</p><p>And just why can’t he stop?</p><p>“Touch you, huh?” he purrs, evening sun dancing over his suit as he slides closer, close enough for their knees to touch. Her shaky exhale isn’t lost on him. A hand on her knee, on her thigh, wandering upwards. “Here, my lady?”</p><p>He just waits for the moment she breaks away, waits for it all to end, waits for her voice to scold him for being that bold. And the moment arrives when she roughly grabs his wrist. The apology already lies on his tongue – <em>Ladybug, I don’t know what’s gotten into me (expect for how you look at me and your voice and, well, </em>you<em>) </em>– but he is entirely unprepared for what happens next.</p><p>“No,” she mutters. “Here.”</p><p>And she presses his hand against her breast.</p><p>His breath gets stuck in his throat. Soft, just the right size to fit into his palm, so familiar his gears start grinding. And when he squeezes lightly …</p><p>A gasp. Ladybug’s eyes full of a weird kind of surprise. His own thoughts a mess. He’s touching a lovely, perfectly formed breast. A breast that belongs to Ladybug, and it feels so familiar he almost chokes on his inhale. He can’t move. He can’t –</p><p>She leans into his touch. She looks at him, eyes dark and expectant. And really, does he have a choice? Liquid fire creeps through his veins as he complies to her command, thumb brushing her hardening nipple, the suit thin enough to let him feel everything. He is rewarded by a tiny weak sound, by her eyes closing, and he suddenly needs to feel her. More, more. He needs her closer. He needs her so bad his hand travels down to her waist impatiently.</p><p>But there is no sweater to hitch up. No naked skin to feel.</p><p>And the second his claws touch Ladybug’s hipbone, the whole moment breaks apart in an instant. Her eyes shooting open, her breath dying on her lips, his muddy mind whispering to him what exactly he just thought about, and why this just feels like a big scary déjà vu.</p><p>Oh god.</p><p>“Okay!” Ladybug squeaks, scrambling away so quickly her hand almost slips from the rooftop’s edge. “Wow! Wowsie! Kinda got lost in the moment there, didn’t we?”</p><p>“Oh. Uh.” His hand is still uselessly hovering in the air. “Woah. Yeah! Good practice, huh? Very erective. I mean – I mean, effective.”</p><p>“Oh my god,” she mutters under her breath. “I think – I think I’m going to go. Yeah. Thanks for, uh. I guess, thanks and stuff.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, totally! Anytime.” He grins stiffly. “Thanks for the … the handful. Nice handful. Really enjoyed it. See? Told you.”</p><p>She scrambles to her feet. “This never happened. It won’t ever happen again, and it never happened. Okay? Okay. Great.”</p><p>He avoids standing up at all costs, and he very inconspicuously tosses his leathery tail over his lap. For aesthetic reasons, that is. “Yup, totally! No problem there, bugaboob!” Shit. “Boobagu.” Shit. “Boob – you know what, forget it.”</p><p>“Absolutely will! See you, pussy cat. Uh, Chat. Just Chat.”</p><p>There is, of course, no reason at all why Chat stays where he is for a good minute even after Ladybug is gone, his grin subsiding the longer he waits. A glance at his crotch tells him that he will relive this moment in his dreams for the next two months. And that his little buddy will happily remind him of one simple fact.</p><p>Marinette and Ladybug’s boobs feel very, very similar.</p><p>Scarily similar.</p><p>Which is just stupid and dumb, but something his dick isn’t exactly unhappy about.</p><p>Well, shoot.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just as a fair warning - read the tags! This chapter contains smut, and I'd advise against reading it if you aren't comfortable with explicit content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adrien couldn’t really sleep. No, not because bodily instincts kept him up. Come on, he has <em>some</em> restraint! Okay, okay, they’re only partly at fault. Anyway, the endless loop of questions in his mind was much more prominent. And only momentarily muffled for two minutes once. Or three times. Or four, but that doesn’t matter, okay? What matters is that there’s something going on. And he has no idea what to do about it.</p><p>Look, he’ll just need one confirmation. Just to know that he is indeed crazy for believing that he’d find out Ladybug’s identity because of – ha – cleavage. Unromantic and unsatisfying. He’d rather have her reveal herself at the end of a grand battle, or as they tragically announce their final separation, or while proclaiming their undying love for each other. Not because of his horniness for her.</p><p>Still.</p><p>And since Plagg’s answer to “What do you think is the most likely scenario to touch a girl’s boobs respectfully without coming across like a creep?” was to roar with laughter, Adrien has no choice but to develop a plan.</p><p>So, naturally, his first go-to person is his trusted roommate and best friend ever. As they sit in their kitchen, steaming cups of tea before them, Adrien searches for the right wording. And Nino waits. Patiently. As patiently as always. On and on and –</p><p>“I touched Marinette inappropriately,” Adrien blurts out.</p><p>Nino nods, not batting an eye. “With or without consent?”</p><p>“With! With, of course!” Adrien’s cheeks heat up until he hides them behind his hands with a groan. “I mean – she made me touch her inappropriately!”</p><p>“With or without consent?”</p><p>“Oh my god, Nino, with!”</p><p>“Hey. Just being safe here, bro. So, what’s the problem?”</p><p>Adrien shrugs, and looks at the ceiling, and looks at the floor, and tries to stay cool and collected. “It was, um, cool. Cool with me. Totally, well, not complaining. You know? You know.”</p><p>Nino nods and slurps his tea, prompting him with an expectant look to go on. And Adrien struggles to come up with words. So much so that he nervously shifts on his chair.</p><p>“So, uh, what would you say – if theoretically, that was so totally cool that I would have nothing against doing it again, you know, what happens, happens – would that be,” Adrien laughs very naturally, “weird?”</p><p>Nino puts down his cup. Fixates him with a long look. Adrien’s laughing ceases until he can’t even properly smile anymore.</p><p>“You wanna touch her inappropriately again.”</p><p>Adrien feels his cheeks turn hot. “With her consent, of course.”</p><p>“Of course, bro.” He keeps looking at Adrien. Then he shows a laid-back smile and adjusts his cap. “Leave it to me. I’ve got the perfect plan.”</p><p>Exactly the words he needed to hear, making sweet relief flood his mind. “Knew I could count on you,” he says, heart bursting with sweet affection for the best bro in existence. He doesn’t even ask questions, because a perfect bro like Nino doesn’t need questions. All he needs is endless appreciation. Which he shows by letting Nino win three times in a row in <em>Ultimate Mecha Strike V: Sweet Vengeance</em>. Nino acknowledges it with curt nods, and a humble, “Woah, since when do you suck so much at this game, bro?”</p><p>All is well and dandy.</p><p>Until the plan is revealed to him, that is. On a rainy Friday evening, just days after Adrien had the absolute honor of feeling two of the loveliest boobs he has ever touched in his life. (Really, not to disrespect Kagami’s boobs, because they were pretty much perfect too, but they are ex-boobs, and ex-boobs are bound to be not as great as “boobs that might end up being girlfriend boobs maybe hopefully in his dreams very much so in his dreams maybe only in his dreams”, naturally). Nino told him once again to wear something comfortable, but maybe a tad less revealing, wink, and there they are. All four of them are occupying the sofa, and Adrien is feeling just a tad self-conscious as he waits for whatever surely genius plan his very best friend ever came up with.</p><p>“Alya and I challenge you dudes to a Twister match,” Nino says calmly.</p><p>Seconds of silence.</p><p>“Oh my god, Nino, no,” Alya hisses under her breath. “You were supposed to say it bloodthirstily! Give it some proper impact!”</p><p>“Babe, you know I love you, but how can ya expect me to connect Twister and bloodthirst? Just not vibing with me, you know?”</p><p>“We practiced this! Oh my god, just …” Alya puts down her glass of water. Instead, her fist meets the coffee table with so much force it shakes for a second. “Nino and I challenge you two lowly peasants to a Twister match! It’s on sight, imbeciles!”</p><p>Nino nods. Adrien nods. Marinette nods. They all clap slowly.</p><p>“Still,” Nino says, “that was more aggressive than bloodthirsty.”</p><p>Alya frowns. “Huh, you are right. The insults, huh? Bit too much?”</p><p>Marinette shrugs. “I think it was great.”</p><p>“Thank you, bestie.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><p>Another few seconds of silence. Slowly, Adrien’s gears start rattling. When they do, he almost chokes. “Wait, were you serious? You challenge us?”</p><p>“Totally, bro.” Nino gives him a shit-eating grin. “And because we’re good souls, we’ll give ya two until Sunday to get in some practice.”</p><p>Marinette looks just as flabbergasted as Adrien feels. “I thought we were past the Twister thing! You two lost twice!”</p><p>“Only because you turned into a war machine, girl.” Alya raises an eyebrow at her. “You moved so quickly your knee landed in my face twice. I need revenge in the form of sweet, sweet victory.”</p><p>“Also, we didn’t play in teams.” Nino shrugs. Then he sends Marinette a pensive look. “Oh, dudette, I totally get it. Scared of losing, aren’t ya?”</p><p>Marinette startles. “What? No, that’s not it.”</p><p>Okay. So. Two possibilities. Either Adrien avoids making a fool of himself yet again by not accepting that challenge. Because, really, wasn’t there any better plan Nino could have come up with? Even though he seems really proud of himself. Adrien guesses it’s the thought that counts. Anyway, or he accepts that deal. Hopes that their, uh, practice sessions somehow lead to his hand very, very accidentally landing on a perfect pair of boobs yet again.</p><p>Is that thought weird? Totally not.</p><p>Is that plan stupid? Yeah, kinda.</p><p>Will he still grab that chest – uh, chance? Oh, absolutely.</p><p>So he does.</p><p>“I’m in,” he says so loudly he startles even himself. “If Marinette is okay with it.” He turns his head to her, almost melting when he sees her pink cheeks and her widened eyes. “Are you okay with it?”</p><p>“Nuagh,” she helpfully provides.</p><p>“Was that …”</p><p>“No! I mean, yes!”</p><p>“… Was that –”</p><p>“Yes! I mean, no!”</p><p>“I’ll take that as a no, but yes,” Alya chimes in.</p><p>“So, ultimately, a yes?” Nino muses.</p><p>“Yes, I will!” she blurts into Adrien’s face.</p><p>That’s good, he supposes. So he smiles. “Cool, cool.”</p><p>“Totally cool,” she agrees. “Perfectly cool.”</p><p>“So cool.”</p><p>“Yep, cool.”</p><p>“Yeah, cool, I agree, okay, children. Like we said, you’ve only got until Sunday!” Alya stares at Adrien so hard he resists the urge to wince. “That’s two evenings. Only two evenings. And of course, we will not watch you two getting it on. Gaming-wise. Getting it on during Twister. I mean, because of Twister. Don’t mess this up. Chance of a lifetime. Grab it. Grab the chance!”</p><p>Adrien feels all blood leave his cheeks. “I’m trying, okay?”</p><p>“It’s not that hard, Adrien! Just grab it!”</p><p>“Okay, okay, I will! But … Not now!”</p><p>“Yes, now!” Alya points at Marinette’s room. “Go, or I’ll throw the Twister box right at your head!”</p><p>“Not bloodthirsty, babe,” Nino jumps in. “Again, only aggressive.”</p><p>“Aggressive my ass!”</p><p>“Aggressive again.”</p><p>Before the box really can land on his head, Adrien does the smart thing and slowly stands up together with Marinette. One little look, averting their gazes, looking at each other again. They inconspicuously take the Twister box from the shelf and disappear into Marinette’s room while Alya loudly discusses the actual definition of bloodthirst with Nino, listing several arguments of why bloodthirst and aggression could surely and absolutely be interchangeable in the right circumstances.</p><p>So, when the door closes behind him, Adrien freezes on the spot. Because, really, he gets the general idea. Playing Twister equals having to get close and personal once again equals the possibility of not-so-accidental intimate touches equals <em>boobs</em>. But, honestly, how does he arrive at the <em>boobs </em>part? He would have to calculate ahead. And Marinette could mess up all his plans by choosing the wrong color at the wrong time. And then he’d have to recalculate. And yes, he is realizing that right now, he is evaluating the most effective way to successfully assault his friend’s chest.</p><p>He should be ashamed of himself.</p><p>Also, he isn’t totally trying to get a peek at aforementioned chest as Marinette stands there, awkwardly looking at anything but him.</p><p>He absolutely is ashamed of himself.</p><p>“So,” he starts, successfully distracting himself from cute perfect cleavage by using words. Go, him! “If you don’t want to do it …”</p><p>“No. I want to.” She fidgets on the spot. Then, hesitantly, she kneels down and opens the box. “It’s just – um – well. I mean, we want to win this challenge, right?”</p><p>“Uh – yep.”</p><p>“Then we’ll really have to work on your skills, Adrien.”</p><p>He pauses for a moment. “Sorry?”</p><p>“No offense! Really! But, uh, you’re not the best at this game.”</p><p>He ducks his head. “Um, really sorry?”</p><p>“Maybe it’s because you never played it as a kid. I mean, it shouldn’t be too hard to win against Nino and Alya. Nino has more strength than agility, and Alya might be very quick, but she overestimates herself constantly.” Marinette’s words are sharp and professional as she spreads out the mat. “You, on the other hand? You don’t use all your potential. From what I can estimate, you could be very flexible if you would just concentrate.”</p><p>How the hell is he supposed to concentrate when all he can think about is her cute butt in front of him? But of course, he doesn’t say that out loud. Instead, he watches her cute butt in front of him as she keeps setting up the game. See? Exactly his problem.</p><p>“All right.” She nods to herself, then to him. “Let’s do it. We’ll go through a game, and I’ll tell you your weak points.”</p><p>Oh. Okay. All right. Totally okay. He dutifully waits until the spinner stops spinning, and he dutifully puts his left hand on green just like instructed. Then, he dutifully spins the spinner himself. He feels oddly watched underneath Marinette staring. Like, the bad kind of being watched. He’s so nervous his hand almost slips from the circle again.</p><p>“Concentrate, Adrien,” she tells him. “Or do you not want to beat those two?”</p><p>He gulps. “I do. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Well, a fault confessed is half redressed. Keep it up, please.”</p><p>He does. Marinette’s eyes are stern as they scrutinize his every move. After a while, this starts to feel more like a workout than anything else. Really, it’s almost fun. Especially when Marinette starts challenging him by occupying spots he wanted to aim at, keeping him on his toes. She ducks underneath his moves with an elegance that almost takes his breath away, avoiding being caged in by him, and after a while, he really gets into it, genuinely wanting to win that round.</p><p>She rewards him with a laugh when he steals a circle from her at the last second. “See? Knew there’s some potential in you.”</p><p>He smirks. “Learned from the best.”</p><p>This somehow feels familiar. The way she moves, never faltering once; it isn’t hard for him to keep up. After a while, it really starts to feel like a friendly match. They both anticipate each other’s moves, they both try to one up the other. Sweat is starting to build on his forehead, his breaths heavy as he bends over her, faces close to each other.</p><p>“Getting tired already?” he hears her say. Looks at her.</p><p>A mistake.</p><p>Reddened cheeks, determined eyes, the slightest hint of a smile. Their arms linked, elbows touching. One of her legs between his, and he suddenly is way too aware of her body, of her heat, of how her chest moves with her breaths, of her scent lingering in the air, of how he would only have to move a centimeter or two to –</p><p>She gently bumps her shoulder against his, and he loses his balance at once, and his knee lands on the mat with a clunk.</p><p>Cursing, he leans away, careful not to touch her in any way. Marinette gives a tiny sigh. “And you were doing so well.”</p><p>“I know!” He groans. “I’m – I – I got distracted. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Hey, no worries. We’ve still got today and tomorrow to get ready.” Forehead glistening with sweat, she shoots him a smile. “Left foot on red, come on.”</p><p>That’s the plan. Totally going to rock this.</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t the plan at all. He messed up.</p><p>Chat Noir stares at the sky above him. Blue and pretty. Just like her eyes. The same eyes that watched his every move. That was kinda scary. Also, kinda hot. But definitely not what Nino had in mind when providing him with this chance. He was supposed to grab it, damn it! He didn’t even <em>try </em>to grab it.</p><p>Honestly, Marinette’s sudden fighting spirit was very intimidating.</p><p>Also, did he mention that it was very hot?</p><p>Not like that induced some daydreams he never thought about before. No, no, not him. Absolutely not.</p><p>Surrendering himself to his existence as a puddle of misery, Chat Noir sighs heavily, his limbs stretched out on the roof. And when he hears a thud next to him, he sighs again. Just for the extra effect. Just to let the whole world know how much he messed up, exactly.</p><p>“Something wrong, kitten?” he hears a slightly amused voice beside him.</p><p>“No,” he mumbles. “I just love wallowing in my pitiful existence, that’s all.”</p><p>“Wow.”</p><p>“Yeah.” He listens as she sits down next to him, but doesn’t look at her. “I messed up.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“Well.” He clears his throat a few times. “I – so – do you want details?”</p><p>“Vague details, please.”</p><p>“Isn’t that kinda paradoxical?”</p><p>“Take it or leave it.”</p><p>He takes it. “So, uh, that girl. That girl and I need to win a match. A match with, um, a lot of physical contact. And we need to practice for that to happen.” He looks at the clouds above him. Two oval-shaped clouds pass him by. They start melting into each other until they are connected to each other at last, forming two pretty mounds. Chat has to suppress a sniffle at that sight. Even the sky is starting to taunt him. “So, that’s what we did. Practice And – and it would have been the perfect opportunity to, well, repeat the boob incident. And I didn’t! I’m an idiot.”</p><p>“A … match.”</p><p>He is still staring the taunting cloud mockingly passing them by. “Yup.”</p><p>“With physical contact. Like, um, wrestling?”</p><p>The immediate mental image really isn’t his fault, so the choking sound he emits is completely justified.</p><p>“Or,” Ladybug quickly adds, “playing tag?”</p><p>“Absolutely! Competitive tag! Yes, yep!”</p><p>“Ah! Aha. Makes sense.” She clears her throat. “Well. Did you … did you give her a sign, then?”</p><p>That makes Chat pause. He turns his head until he can look at Ladybug’s face. Sunlight weaving through her hair, cheeks just a tiny bit pink. Oh, yeah, his suspicions. He didn’t forget about those. Narrowing his eyes, he keeps looking at her. “No. She is taking all of that very professionally.”</p><p>“Um, maybe …” Tapping her forefingers against each other, Ladybug shrugs. “Maybe she has no idea that you’d want things to, uh, well, take another turn, you know? Maybe she thinks you think she should take it professionally, and all she’d need is for you to not take it professionally, and, yeah.”</p><p>“So, give her a sign?”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>He mulls that over. Turns his head towards the sky again. “But – it’d be so much easier if she gave me a sign that I should give her a sign.”</p><p>“Maybe she is waiting for you to give her a sign that she should give you a sign that you should give her a sign.”</p><p>“Or maybe – no, I’m confused.”</p><p>“Yeah, me too.” She clears her throat once again. “I actually have a very similar problem, you know.”</p><p>“Oh.” He turns his head again, this time a bit more hastily. “Is that so?”</p><p>“Yeah. Because …” Still jabbing her forefingers against each other, she pulls her bent knees closer. “That guy is giving me no signs either. Even after he touched my boob! It’s like it never happened. I think he’s just being polite, trying not to bring it up. Because he really didn’t enjoy it.” She sends him a side glance, quickly looking away again. “What … what do you think?”</p><p>And that does sound a tad familiar. Oh god, way too familiar. So, while he is still trying to get that into his head, all that leaves his lips is a hearty, “Uh.”</p><p>“Oh my god, I’m right, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Uh, maybe he is waiting for you to give him a sign that he should give you … No, you know what?” He bolts upright in an instant. “You said he touched your boob? That’s very crucial – did he squeeze it, too?”</p><p>Cheeks turning red, Ladybug shies away a bit. “Yes?”</p><p>“Then it’s settled. He liked it. Free pass to seduce him. So, seduce him!”</p><p>“W-what? I don’t even know if he wants to be seduced!”</p><p>“He squeezed it, LB! Doesn’t that tell you anything?”</p><p>“You … You squeezed, too.” She squints. “Do <em>you </em>want to be seduced?”</p><p>He squints back. “I have no idea what particular incident you’re talking about.”</p><p>It takes a while of loaded eye contact until her lips finally start forming a tiny smile. “Right. No idea at all. Same.”</p><p>He smiles back. “But if there’s something you want to get off your <em>chest</em> –”</p><p>“Oh my god.”</p><p>“Okay, look, perfect opportunity, I’m not even sorry.”</p><p>“Please don’t say you’re going to milk that situation dry.”</p><p>He stares at her. “I’m oddly fascinated and grossed out at the same time.”</p><p>She makes a face. “I regret several of my life choices.”</p><p>“Great.”</p><p>“Great.”</p><p>They both turn away from each other. Sitting there like the lost causes that they are. Sighing simultaneously. Chat hunches his shoulders before dropping them again.</p><p>“It could be so easy,” he mumbles. “I could just tell her, right? That her boobs are amazing. I mean, that she is amazing.”</p><p>“Yeah,” she mutters. “Same. Only without the boobs part.”</p><p>“Just why is this so hard?” he whines. “Why is the friendzone such a cruel place?”</p><p>“Don’t even get me started,” she groans.</p><p>“How did you survive there for years?”</p><p>She stays silent for a second. “Okay, you don’t have to put it like that.”</p><p>“Please, LB, you’re an expert! You should write an instruction manual.”</p><p>“That is not a compliment.”</p><p>“A survival guide.”</p><p>“I’m about to smack your head with a survival guide.”</p><p>“What? It’s the truth! Years, Ladybug, years, and you never made any progress! I suddenly know how that feels.”</p><p>She stares at him in disbelief. Then she points at herself. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”</p><p>He stares back. “Woah, that’s low, LB.”</p><p>“What – making fun of me for – you aren’t funny! You could also stop being a coward and just tell her, you know?”</p><p>He sighs heavily. “But, just, how? Hey, yeah, uh, surprise, I know we’ve been friends for an eternity, but I actually kinda started imagining you naked somewhere along the line and now I can’t stop, do you think art therapy could help?”</p><p>Deadpanning, Ladybug draws up an eyebrow. “You want to go on a date?”</p><p>Staring back at her, he feels his cat ears twitch. “Absolutely. Thought you’d never ask.”</p><p>“No! No, no, I meant, tell her that!”</p><p>“That you wanna go on a date with me?”</p><p>She smacks his arm. “You’re the worst.” Sighing, she looks at the city before them. “It’s crazy. We’ve been friends for eight years. That guy and – it should be easy.”</p><p>Chat’s mouth dries. “Huh! Eight years! Huh! Woah, crazy, what a coincidence! Me – me too! Her! Us! Friends, eight years.”</p><p>“Really?” She squints at him. “And it took you that long to realize you’ve got feelings for her?”</p><p>“You know what they say. Sometimes, you can’t see what’s right in front of you, huh?”</p><p>She stares. He stares. Searches for something. Anything. Maybe for magical letters popping up in her eyes, spelling out, “Yep, I’m Marinette and you’re an idiot.” Which wouldn’t make sense. Would it? No, it wouldn’t. Or really, would it?</p><p>Eventually, she scrunches up her nose. “In that case, you should really tell her. I bet she’d be really relieved to know. Because making the first step? Always scary as hell.”</p><p>It’s just crazy. Because, come on, eight years? Eight years of her talking about a guy she is in love with, and he never caught <em>any </em>sign that this guy could actually be him? No, impossible. Absolutely, utterly impossible. He has at least some social skills. He thinks. Only crazy coincidences, and that just confirms it: Ladybug and Marinette might be boob twins, but definitely not the same person. No other connection there whatsoever.</p><p>And with that, it’s settled.</p><p>He smashes his fist into his open palm, sudden determination taking over. “You know what? I’m going to do it. Touch her inappropriately. Today. No going back. Because honestly, if I see her one more time in tight yoga pants, I’m going to have a mental breakdown.”</p><p>“I so didn’t want to hear this,” Ladybug returns, “but, same. You have no idea how delicious he looks in his goddamn shirt. It’s way too tight! It’s like – I’m not even sure I could peel it off his skin!”</p><p>Chat looks at her. “Do it. Try to peel it off. Fast and painless. Like a band-aid.”</p><p>“Chat, that wasn’t sexy.”</p><p>“I realized as soon as I said it, but by then, it was too late.”</p><p>“I totally don’t envy that girl.”</p><p>“Me neither. I don’t envy shirt guy either, though. Sounds painful.”</p><p>“Yeah, I think he’d need a lesson on how to find shirts that fit him. That’s just ridiculous. He should be a model, for god’s sake!”</p><p>“Yeah, how ridi- what – ah. Aha! Ha, what?”</p><p>“Aren’t models supposed to know that stuff?”</p><p>“Ah, yeah, they so, what, ha. Guagh.”</p><p>Ladybug freezes at once. Slowly turns her head to him. “I just told you his occupation, didn’t I.”</p><p>“Yes.” At her panicked look, he freezes. “No. You didn’t. Did you even talk? What is talk? What is language? Never heard of her.”</p><p>Ladybug jumps to her feet. “He has black hair and blue eyes and a ridiculous accent! Also, his first name and his last name start with a Z and he has the tiniest feet I’ve ever seen! Yup, that’s the truth, bug out god fuck damn it!” Her sweet voice forming the most poetic of words vanishes in the distance as she swings away, and Chat keeps sitting there like an idiot, looking after her.</p><p>So, uh. If that black-haired, blue-eyed model guy looks ridiculous in his just-a-size-too-small shirt, does Adrien, too?</p><p>Nah, surely not.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t lie. He is going to do it. He will give her a sign. Not only a sign that she could give him a sign that he should give her a sign that – no, he will give her a <em>sign</em>. Period. A sign with touch. A touching sign. Oh god, wow, no. He can’t do it. No, he can. No, he can’t.</p><p>“Sunshine,” a familiar voice hisses behind him. “Grab it! Grab the chance!”</p><p>“You have no idea how hard this is!” he hisses back, looking over his shoulder. Alya frowns at him from the sofa.</p><p>“I saw how hard it was, so just do it! Grab it!”</p><p>Adrien chokes.</p><p>“Was that an innuendo?” Nino asks next to her.</p><p>“What do you think, smart boyfriend of mine?”</p><p>Nino snorts, then gives Adrien a thumbs-up. “You’ve totally got this, bro. I believe in you.”</p><p>Catching himself, Adrien smiles broadly at Nino before gesturing at him. “See, Alya? That’s the kind of support friends need. Not weird innuendos!”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Alya breathes, rolling her eyes. “Just go in there and work your magic! Come on, Adrien, grab that chance!”</p><p>Okay. Okay. He can do this. He gulps, turning to the door. Lifts his hand. Knocks.</p><p>Seconds of silence. Little taps on the floor. Then, Marinette opens her door, her cheeks pink as she blinks at him. “Hi, Adrien.”</p><p>He suddenly feels so self-conscious that he lifts a hand to his neck. “Hi, Marinette.”</p><p>“Do you want to …?”</p><p>“Oh, uh, yeah.”</p><p>He totally doesn’t almost stumble over his own feet as he enters her room and closes the door behind him. Nope, he is totally cool and ready to do what he came here to do. That is, ogling her butt in her tight yoga pants as she turns towards the Twister mat already laid out on the floor. Wait, no, that wasn’t the plan. Wait, what was the plan again?</p><p>“So,” she says. “Let’s, uh, let’s just try an actual round?”</p><p>“Totally,” he agrees, not sweating at all.</p><p>So, an actual round it is.</p><p>It’s just a bit weirder than before. Because they start out just fine, Marinette every now and then throwing in how he could better his stance. There’s some odd strain to her voice, a nervous flicker in her eyes which he doesn’t really know what to do with.</p><p>At least until she spins a right hand on yellow, and he totally expected her to lean backwards and away from him like she always does. Only that this time, she seems to have changed her mind. Because instead, she slides forward. He is already occupying the circle next to her, and she is forced to change her direction at the last moment. But she seems to have miscalculated her actual speed, and so, her face smashes right into his chest.</p><p>She squeaks, her warm breath hitting him. “Oh, uh, I’m so – okay, wrong move, sorry, I –”</p><p>“Oh. That’s no problem at all!” Come on, Adrien. Be smooth. Remember, signs. Signs! “Actually, I like the view.”</p><p>He blushes. She blushes too as she blinks up at him from her position. And damn, if that doesn’t make his heart jump in an instant. “The … view?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he mumbles, not sounding breathless at all. “Could get used to it.”</p><p>She stares. And flushes even more. And actually starts quivering. And he does his best not to turn into a heap of nervousness, too. Not until he spins a left hand on blue, and moves accordingly.</p><p>See, she could have easily moved away again. No need for some complicated pose, really. But before he knows it, she gives him an odd look, something between absolute determination and absolute embarrassment, and he doesn’t know what to make of that, not really, until she slams her hand on a circle underneath his leg, her face being forced further down this way, stopping right before his crotch.</p><p>Oh god.</p><p>Her sweet butt in the air, her face so close to his very happy dick, and when she looks up at him this time, he can’t bring out a sound without choking on his own tongue.</p><p>“A-and this view?” she mumbles, even the tips of her ears turning red. “I mean, do you like it? You know, in reference to – I just – I mean, I really like it here. Comfortable, and really inviting, and oh god, I’ll shut up now.”</p><p>“Love it,” it escapes him. He freezes. “That. This. This game.”</p><p>Not according to plan. Not at all. He has to turn this around somehow. Before he spontaneously lets show just how <em>much </em>he enjoys the view. So, in his absolute panic, he spins the spinner with so much force that it needs longer than necessary to come to a halt.</p><p>Great.</p><p>He escapes before anything tragic can happen, thanking the heavens for getting a left foot on red. God damn it. Even though he told Ladybug that he’d do it. All he wanted was to touch her boob, that’s it! Just some touching. Or, maybe, possibly more than touching. If she wanted to. Only if she wanted to.</p><p>When he gives her a careful look, she sees her cheeks turn red, and she quickly averts her gaze again.</p><p>Does she want to?</p><p>Or is she – she couldn’t possibly be Ladybug, he already determined that much very convincingly, but if she was – could this be a sign that he should give her a sign that she should give –</p><p>You know what? Screw this.</p><p>Conjuring up all his Chat Noir, he plans his next steps. Doesn’t shy away from her as he puts his hand on a red circle. Instead, he leans into her, and when she is forced to back away, he catches her questioning eyes.</p><p>“What do you think of this tactic, Marinette?” He grins at her. “Not making you nervous, is it?”</p><p>She flushes so hard even her eyes turn watery. “Not at all! Not at all. Very hot. Uh, close. Good. Good tactic, enjoying it.”</p><p>It feels a bit like trapping a nervous mouse in its cage. It feels a bit awkward, too. The way her eyes dart around in apparent panic isn’t exactly a hint that he should continue what he is doing. At least not until she spins their next move, and until she slides her leg closer, knee pressing against his side as she is holding herself up underneath him.</p><p>Could still be an accident, something perfectly innocent. But then, her eyes still on him, her cheeks still red, she rubs her thigh against him. Deliberately slowly. Breaths expanding her lungs, her sweet scent enough to haze his thoughts, and he has to swallow several times to keep himself from releasing a sound.</p><p>“Not making you nervous, am I?” she says, fluttering her lashes.</p><p>“Not at all,” he returns, sounding absolutely breathless.</p><p>He has no idea how they got there, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, Adrien does everything he can to make their bodies brush as often as possible. His arm against her shoulder. His cheek against her knee. His leg against hers. Watching her expression. Watching that little thing growing behind blue irises. Their bodies suddenly moving in a rhythm he can’t make out entirely, becoming bolder by the second. Until she turns her body around, back to him and one of her legs caught between his.</p><p>Until he is practically bent over her.</p><p>Until she leans back, even though it probably isn’t necessary to keep her balance, and her hips press against his too hard to be an accident.</p><p>He should move away. He really should. That bit of contact alone pushes all air out of his lungs, but he wills himself to think this through. If nothing else, it has to be a sign. A sign that she – well. Definitely a sign, right?</p><p>“What kind of tactic is this?” he eventually brings out through clenched teeth.</p><p>He can’t see her expression, but her voice sounds teasing and absolutely flustered at the same time. “A tactic you really seem to enjoy.”</p><p>He has to hold back a nervous laugh. Two can play this game, after all. So, despite the desire surging through him so hard his thoughts are a mess, he moves his body away with the next spin. Instead he leans down, muscles shaking with the strain of holding him up in that position. Still, in this way, his upper body presses against hers, and he can bring his lips close to her ear.</p><p>“Seems like I’m not the only one enjoying this.”</p><p>Maybe that’s a bit too bold. Maybe he is going too far. But then, she whimpers, a little fleeting sound, and he feels his whole body tense in return. Heart racing, his lips still close to her ear, her body pressing back against him, searching for friction until she turns her head, lips so close to his everything inside him freezes.</p><p>“Touch me,” she pleads.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>The déjà vu doesn’t even properly register until his hand is on hers, fingers brushing her warm skin, and he feels her shiver, hears her breath hitch, feels her heartbeat against his chest, and –</p><p>The world suddenly blurs. His back meets the floor with a hard thud, and when the sudden confusion lifts, he is presented with wild blue eyes looking down at him. Marinette, straddling his lap, a triumphant smile on her lips and her cheeks glowing red.</p><p>She looks incredible. A goddess catching her prey.</p><p>“Got distracted, huh?” she says.</p><p>He blinks several times, unable to comprehend what just happened.</p><p>“I win. And you know what the winner gets to do?” She wraps her fingers around his wrist, lifts his hand. “They get to spin the first move.”</p><p>He keeps staring. Hears blood sing in his ears as she pushes his hand under her sweater, guiding it up to – oh god.</p><p>“Right hand on left chest,” she whispers, biting her lip and smiling.</p><p>Shit. Shit, shit.</p><p>He must be dreaming. He must have bumped his head against something, and his subconscious was kind enough to show him just what would happen if he didn’t mess up all the time. It’s so much that for several seconds, he can’t bring himself to move at all. And above him, Marinette’s smile slowly falls until she looks at him with something like concern.</p><p>“Are you – Adrien? Oh my god, you don’t want – oh my god.”</p><p>It takes him some time to realize that words being strung together usually lead to a meaningful sentence. Before he can react with a sentence that is just as meaningful, Marinette yanks his hand away from her, still caught under her sweater. The loss of cute soft boob makes his dick protest.</p><p>“I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to molest you!” she shrieks.</p><p>“I – you didn’t –”</p><p>“I should have known – oh god.” Her panicked face, her quivering lower lip, and, okay, this is getting out of hand. Literally. He needs to get this … into his hand again.</p><p>So he quickly sits up, holding her in place by splaying his fingers over the small of her back, and before she can react in any way, he crashes his lips against hers, shutting his eyes. She freezes beneath him, still as a statue as his lips taste her warmth, and somehow, he can’t bring himself to move either.</p><p>Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe those weren’t signs, but, uh, coincidences. Very hot, but very accidental coincidences.</p><p>Oh god.</p><p>Just when he is about to draw back, he feels her relax, and her sigh makes him stop in an instant. He feels her shift in his lap, coming closer until her lips press back against his, starting to move tentatively and shyly. He shivers from head to toe. And it only dawns to him right then.</p><p>He is kissing Marinette.</p><p>He is kissing <em>Marinette</em>, and she is kissing him back.</p><p>It’s a realization that means everything. A realization that makes him push her closer, that makes him groan lowly as her arms wrap around his neck, as his lips search for more until she sighs again. Her scent makes him dizzy, her taste burns him up from inside. He grabs the back of her head with his free hand to guide her on, to change the angle until he can kiss her more deeply, tongue exploring anything he can. She shivers, and whimpers, and squirms, and god, she is so cute, so fucking sexy he is losing his mind.</p><p>This is happening. This is really happening.</p><p>Their lips part. He tries to lean back, but fingers dig into his shoulders right away to hinder him from getting away. “Don’t stop,” she begs him, squirming in an attempt to get closer to him again. Needy, and eager, and damn it, it’s almost too much already.</p><p>“I won’t. Don’t worry, I won’t.” He kisses the shell of her ear as his hand wanders from her back to her stomach, a sweet noise climbing from her lips. “You want this, right?”</p><p>“Yes, god, yes, please, Adrien …”</p><p>Her reactions send a wave of arousal through him. Being that greedy for him, for his touches – god, she is going to be the death of him. His own breath is quickening as his fingers trail a path from her stomach to her chest. “How much do you want it, Marinette?”</p><p>Helpless breaths, her hips rocking against him, making him suppress a groan. “Too much, way too much,” she whispers.</p><p>The clear desperation in her voice turns him on so much he can’t hold back anymore. His hand closes over her breast, over its full round form. A perfect shape, soft and yet firm. Familiar, and yet entirely new. Every single coherent thought escapes him as he starts massaging soft flesh, watching as she closes her eyes, her gasp washing over him.</p><p>He can’t get enough of it.</p><p>With impatient fingers, he hikes up her sweater, revealing pale skin. More and more until he can press a kiss on her uncovered nipple. She sharply inhales, her whole body quivering as he starts sucking gently, her breaths becoming pretty whimpers and tiny moans. A hand in his hair pressing him closer, and he is more than happy to comply, licking and sucking as he rolls her other nipple between his fingers.</p><p>Her reactions alone are driving him wild. The way she throws her head back with a shuddering moan, the way she leans into his touches, the way her fingers dig into his scalp when he gets just the tiniest bit rougher. He gently bites her hardened nipple, and she practically cries out, pressing him even closer. His heart is becoming a thundering mess. He needs to touch more of her. Impatiently, he grabs the hem of her sweater, pulling it up until she gets the cue and gets rid of it.</p><p>She is panting in his arms, and when their eyes meet, she grabs his face and dives down to kiss him wildly. Forcing her tongue between his lips, a moan forming in his throat as she moves closer and closer. His fingers explore her softness, from her hips to her waist back to her chest, squeezing and groping until he is swallowing any noise she makes. Her warm hands on his shoulders, down lower, lower, and before she can slip underneath his joggers’ waistband, he growls into her mouth and catches her wrists.</p><p>She whines, backing away. “Hey –”</p><p>“I’m not done with you yet.”</p><p>His boldness surprises even himself. And her too, apparently, because her eyes grow wide and her cheeks flush an even deeper red than before. Before he can become a self-conscious mess, he leans forward, kissing her neck softly as he guides her down on her back. He settles between her legs. A kiss to her collarbone, to her lips, her body arching against him as his hand finds her breasts again.</p><p>“I thought about this so often,” he whispers over her lips. “Ever since you had me touch you like that. Just let me enjoy this a little longer.”</p><p>Her answer is a repressed moan as she bites her lip, eyes shut and eager fingers running through his hair. He could watch her forever, he thinks. Writhing underneath him like that, gifting him with the sweetest sounds.</p><p>His lips close over her other nipple this time. He starts out gentle, fingers exploring the softness, teeth grazing her nipple just lightly. She inhales sharply at the touch.</p><p>“Sensitive, are you?” he mumbles before he can stop himself. Marinette gives a sound that is neither denial nor confirmation. He watches her while squeezing her breast, watches how her brows furrow as a gasp slides over pink lips, listens to the needy sound when he pinches lightly, and he can’t hold himself back any longer.</p><p>Gently, he bites the pink nub and pulls at it just the tiniest bit. The reaction is immediate – a muffled scream, hips buckling up to rub against him, and he moans at the feeling of her heat being so close to his abdomen. A look at her face reveals that she has smacked a hand over her mouth, looking at him wide-eyed.</p><p>“Too much?” he asks.</p><p>She shakes her head furiously.</p><p>He swallows. Softly massages her maltreated nipple underneath his thumb. “Good?” he dares ask.</p><p>She closes her eyes again, head dropping back as she sighs under his touches. “Jesus, yes,” she says. “Just – we can’t be too … too loud, it’s …”</p><p>Her words are clumsy, her breaths hard and unsteady, and seeing her like that, no more than a hungry mess – he has to suppress a grin, moving to her other nipple again. “Mm, yes, maybe you’ll have to hold back a bit,” he returns, attending to her neglected peak. Devotedly caressing it just like he should, tongue flicking against it until he feels her body quiver beneath him. He has a feeling the movement of her hips is entirely unintentional, and he does his best not to mindlessly grind back.</p><p>He didn’t lie, after all. He isn’t done with her. Countless daydreams involving teasing her until she can’t think anymore, playing with her lovely breasts until she’s reduced to a whimpering pile of goo, and his fingers brush her other nipple. Squeezing it before he swallows a breath, and then, he pinches it roughly enough to make her cry out.</p><p>“Fuck, Adrien – oh –” She whines, writhes, fingers cramping in his hair. “Ah, I –”</p><p>So much for not being too loud. Not like he minds. Anything but. Her wild curses and loud moans send a shiver down his spine, and he keeps sucking, keeps rolling her nipple between his fingers, altering the pressure. Soft at first, then harder again, rewarding her with gentle kisses all over her pretty mounds. By the way her hips rub against his body harder, he is pretty sure he is doing something right. Especially when she almost sobs in pleasure, his name relentlessly falling from her lips. He finds just the right pressure to draw the sweetest moans from her, pressing his tongue flat against the sensitive nub before sucking again, her whole body twitching underneath his.</p><p>“Oh god, oh my god, Adrien,” she whispers, still moving against him. “That’s – god –”</p><p>Her moans become more breathless, drawn-out, thighs tensing until they hold Adrien in place. This time, the whine she emits as he pinches her nipple yet again is something else entirely, and the movement of her hips becomes almost erratic until he has to hold her down with his unoccupied hand. He keeps up his actions, looks up at her face as she throws her head back, as senseless sounds spill from her lips, as her face contorts in pleasure. He can’t hold back a moan of himself at the sight, at the sound of her feral moans, and he gently bites the pink nub again, swirling his tongue around its tip.</p><p>She gasps loudly, and her body stills for a long, long moment.</p><p>The reaction is almost worrisome. His touches get gentler as he watches her intently, her brows furrowed and her teeth pressing into her lower lip. It takes time until her fingers don’t push him impossibly close anymore, until she collapses underneath him, breaths hard and eyes closed, an expression of bliss slowly taking over as he stills with her.</p><p>Seeing as his thinking abilities bid him goodbye the moment she kissed him back, it’s no wonder he needs so long to arrive at the realization. When he finally does, though, it leaves him in wondrous disbelief.</p><p>“Did you just …?”</p><p>Her eyes shoot open. She stares at him. “I – I – oh my god, I think so.”</p><p>“Oh.” He nods dumbfoundedly. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”</p><p>Cool. Cool, yeah.</p><p>Her cheeks are so red she seems to be almost overheating. “Adrien.”</p><p>“Yes. Present. Still present.”</p><p>“You made me …” Her voice becomes a scandalized whisper. “From my … How?”</p><p>“I … Uh.”</p><p>That’s a good question. A question he can’t really answer. Her nipples are still standing to attention, the area around them slightly reddened from his ministrations. He licks his lips, her faint taste lingering on, and he slowly starts getting it into his head.</p><p>He made her come right now. From only her nipples.</p><p>Still leaning over her, fingers planted next to her shoulders, he doesn’t even properly register her hands until they tug at his waistband impatiently. His eyes dart back to her face, to her reddened cheeks and the shimmer of satisfaction in deep blue. “Still not done with me?” she mumbles, hair splayed out underneath her, legs wrapping around his hips.</p><p>He stares, curses, and dives down to kiss her. Kiss every moan from her lips, nibbling and sucking, and she kisses him back just as greedily. Hands gliding underneath his shirt, pulling it up until he gets the cue. He straightens his back for a moment to get rid of the fabric, and before he can lean down again, she follows his movements, warm hands dancing over his skin in an attempt to touch as much of him as they can. She kisses his jaw, his neck, and he doesn’t let her get further before grabbing her chin and claiming her lips again.</p><p>“No, still not done with you,” he tells her breathlessly, his other hand cupping her toned rear. She whimpers against him. “Mm, god. The things your perfect ass did to me, Marinette.”</p><p>She sighs into his mouth as both his hands massage her behind, fingers digging into soft flesh. Her hips jerk forward, deliberately rubbing against his prominent arousal, and he lets his fingers brush the inside of her thighs, making her mewl and squirm until he can’t hold on any longer. Getting a firm grab on her rear, he heaves her up in one quick motion. She squeals as she wraps her legs around his hips, and then she giggles.</p><p>“The things your perfect abs did to me, Adrien,” she mumbles into his ear. “And your perfect smile, too.”</p><p>Shit. He is melting. Entirely melting. Carefully, he lets her sink down to the edge of her bed, pressing a kiss against her forehead. Fingers hook into his joggers’ waistband, open the knot quickly. His lips are already on hers as a warm hand cups his arousal, and he groans into her sweetness.</p><p>“The things you do to me,” she whispers.</p><p>God, he can’t hold on any longer. Grabbing the base of her neck, he kisses her, kisses her into the mattress, kisses her until her body melts against his and her palms run over his arms, his back, soft thighs against his hips as he caresses her cheek. Everything about her is sweet and just a bit shy and so alluring his head is spinning.</p><p>Her hands cup his face, gently pushing him away. He looks at her, breaths hard and hasty. Watches the pretty blush spreading over her cheeks.</p><p>“In my nightstand,” she says, and averts her gaze.</p><p>“In your …” Oh. Oh, god. Her flustered expression makes his heart tremble. “Don’t you think I’ll have to undress you properly first?”</p><p>She bites her lip. “You could.”</p><p>Laughing quietly, he wedges his fingers underneath the yoga pants’ elastics. Watching as she closes her eyes, listening as she gives a tiny noise. He caresses her hipbones, sliding down the pants. His lips follow the movements. Down her inner thighs. Catching a whiff of her arousal, and it takes all his willpower not to press his lips against cute pink panties. Down to her knee, her lower leg, one last kiss to her ankle. When the pants are pulled off, he is kneeling before her, and he kisses her knee again as he wanders higher up.</p><p>“Adrien,” she mutters, voice quivering.</p><p>He hums against her inner thigh, her arousal so close that his mouth is watering.</p><p>“Adrien,” she repeats. “I really – I – I want …”</p><p>“You want what?”</p><p>To his surprise, fingers in his hair pull him back until she sits up. Her thumb caresses his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “You. I want you.”</p><p>Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t decline such a request. Not from Marinette. Not while she is looking at him like that. He has to swallow, standing up on nearly shaking knees.</p><p>“And I want you,” he says before kissing her softly.</p><p>Nothing much to be nervous about. He made her come once already, so really, absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Other than the fact that this is Marinette. Shit, this is Marinette. He doesn’t let his hands tremble as he opens one of her nightstand’s drawers, and her voice behind him almost makes him wince.</p><p>“It’s … Um, it’s hidden underneath one of the books.”</p><p>“Ah.” It indeed is. He doesn’t think about the fact that an almost very much naked Marinette is waiting for him as he pulls out a condom package. He doesn’t think about what he is about to do with her. Look, he can’t lose all his confidence just like that just because he’s about to sleep with Marinette.</p><p>With Marinette.</p><p>Oh god.</p><p>He breathes in. Breathes out. When he looks at her again, he discovers she is watching him with concerned eyes, lips swollen from his kisses. Not a look he wants to see on her. He sits down on the bed next to her, a sigh escaping him as she reaches for his face, gentle fingers running over his cheek.</p><p>“If you don’t …” she starts.</p><p>“I do,” he interrupts her quickly. “I’m just, um. I’m, sorry, I’m just a bit … nervous?”</p><p>Her fingers still. She looks at him. Wow, great. A totally stupid confession in a totally unfitting situation. He is just about to hide away in shame when her tiny laugh makes him pause.</p><p>“You think you’re nervous? I’m a wreck.”</p><p>“A wreck?” he repeats, his unsure hand finding her thigh, finding grounding. “You sure don’t look like it.”</p><p>“Mm-hmm. That’s just the post-orgasm glow.”</p><p>Now he has to laugh too, and he can’t help but lean forward to kiss her. “God, you’re amazing.”</p><p>“Not as amazing as you are.”</p><p>He wants to disagree. But by then, her arms have wrapped around his neck, and she climbs into his lap, kissing him and kissing him. Her naked skin against his is a whole new experience, her warmth enough to make him moan softly. Her scent is filling his nose as he kisses her neck, pressing her as close as he can. Hands reaching for her hips, moving them against his until she releases a stuttering whimper, until the feeling of her hot core rubbing against him makes him groan with need.</p><p>“You have no idea how many times I daydreamed about this,” he mumbles, humming in appreciation as her hips keep moving against his without his guidance. “How many, many times I wished this would happen. Somehow. Someday.”</p><p>“Did you?” she whispers, his fingers digging into her skin as she rubs against him harder. “About <em>this</em>?”</p><p>“Yeah, among … Among other things, um …”</p><p>A sudden movement. The world swirls for a moment, and then Adrien finds himself on his back, Marinette smiling at him from above. Cheeks red, breaths quick, eyes set ablaze. “What other things?” she asks sweetly.</p><p>He can’t properly concentrate as he watches her kneel up, fingers playing with per panties until slowly pulling them over her thighs. Dark curls glistening partly with proof of her arousal. The sight alone has his hips almost buckle. He swallows hard. “It, um, usually included a nice date before. And making you laugh. And kissing you for almost an hour. And romantically carrying you to your bed and – you know what? That’s – just daydreaming. Doesn’t need to happen at all. If you don’t want to.”</p><p>Her eyes are shimmering. Her lips turn into a brighter smile. With impatient hands, she reaches for his boxers, and as soon as they are disposed of, she looks at his growing erection. The hunger in her expression has him suppress a needy sound. A wicked glimmer in her eyes, she grips his dick, giving it a long and loving stroke that makes all his blood flow downwards yet again, drawing a moan from him.</p><p>“Okay, then. Monday? Monday evening?”</p><p>“Monday,” he repeats, not really sure what they are talking about as she keeps pumping him, the feeling of her warm, small hand just way too good to ignore. “Uh, sure. Monday.”</p><p>“So, Monday. Dinner. Romantic dinner.”</p><p>“Oh – oh. It’s a date, then. Sure.” He has to close his eyes, a tiny appreciative hum flowing from his lips. “Mm-hmm. Romantic. Lots of candles. What are you in the mood for? Italian? Something traditional?”</p><p>“Your dick.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, that’s – wait, I don’t think …”</p><p>She grips his dick harder, shutting him up effectively, her thumb teasing his tip. With a groan, he buckles into her touch. He can only watch as she opens the condom package next to them, as she rolls the content over his length.</p><p>“What are you in the mood for?” she asks before biting her lip. Positioning herself above him, hand still on his length as she rubs his tip against her folds, up and down and up again until he is hardly getting any air anymore.</p><p>He grabs her thighs so hard she whimpers, hooded eyes still on him. “Italian doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”</p><p>Laughter in her eyes, she presses him against her entrance, and then she sinks down on him in one hard motion.</p><p>Their moans mingle in the space between them. She feels amazing, so <em>good</em> that his hands grip her hips, hindering her from moving. Her whole body shivers above him, eyes closed, head tipped back, the sight of a goddess basking in her pleasure, and when she moves – her hands on his, fingers holding on to him – heat surges through him in an all-consuming wave, wrenching a groan from his throat.</p><p>She is perfect. She feels like heaven. His grip loosens, but as she starts finding a rhythm, bouncing above him, he still guides her. Until she gets faster, until her strained moans are echoed by him. The sight alone – perky breasts bouncing with her harder motions, sweat forming on her skin, her hand running through her hair while moans break on her lips, flow over her skin in shivering sounds – the pleasure gets too much, too hot, too consuming. He watches her, keeps watching her, moves his thumb to her clit, and one sharp rub alone makes her whole body quiver wildly.</p><p>“Fuck,” she mewls, the movements of her hips becoming harsher. “Adrien, that’s …”</p><p>“Good?” he provides.</p><p>“More – more than that, you’re – you –” She sobs helplessly, riding him so eagerly everything inside him quivers with her. Her thighs starting to tremble against him, breaths just as hard as his own, eyes tightly closed. Something about her sounds becomes too untamed, too wild, too –</p><p>He grabs her hips, forcing her down with enough strength to make her cry out, to have her tear her eyes open. Burying himself so deep inside her his body tenses. “Don’t,” he hisses, and he uses all his restraint to not mindlessly thrust into her. “Not yet.”</p><p>She stares at him. “Are you – are you serious?”</p><p>“You think I’m not?” He can’t get enough of the hunger in her eyes, the silent pleas, the sheer desperation, the way she seems to want him, and only him. “Don’t come until I tell you to.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” she whines, letting herself be guided into a slower rhythm, tears in her eyes. “I was so – you’re such a –” But her protests die on her lips as she takes him deeper and deeper, leaning forward, hands splayed across his chest. The new angle feels way too good, and he groans as his hands roam her curves, arriving at her breasts and softly massaging them. She leans into his touches, walls clenching more and more the rougher he gets.</p><p>He won’t be able to hold on much longer. Not when she straightens her back again, taking in all of him with a thrust that makes his toes curl. Not when she leads one of his hands to her clit, giving a content moan when he complies and draws a soft circle over the nub. Not when she mindlessly fucks herself atop him like that, greedily taking him in again and again.</p><p>“Please, I’m so close, I’m …” She looks at him, so desperate for him. “Please, Adrien, can I – please?”</p><p>He thinks about saying no, but really, he is too far gone, and the thought of seeing her come undone yet again for him, and for him alone –</p><p>“Come for me, Marinette,” he rasps.</p><p>His finger rubs her more harshly, so much so that she releases a quivering moan, hips moving in a way he can hardly keep up with, and her body trembles, hands holding on to him, digging into his skin as she rides him higher and higher. The moment she stumbles over the edge, breath ragged and moans becoming almost soundless; it’s magical. Head thrown back, chest opening, her beauty breaking and engulfing him and pure pleasure washing over her face, pleasure no one else but he brought her, pleasure that lasts for seconds and seconds in which low moans escape her. Until she finally falls forward, catching herself with her hands on his chest once again, sweat glistening on her forehead and face an image of bliss.</p><p>God.</p><p>He grabs her hips, thrusting into her, feeling her lean down and kiss him longer and longer, her sweet sounds enough to drive him absolutely crazy, the image of her pleasure finally breaking her apart too much to handle. His own orgasm builds with a severity that takes his breath away, her hot tightness moving along with him, her lips on his face and on his neck. Her body pressed against him, soft and warm, her scent so close, her hands all over him, and god, she is perfect, she is beautiful, she is everything.</p><p>The moment the heat snaps, the moment she makes him fall too, she is there to catch his moans between her lips, whispering sweet nothings against his skin until pleasant tiredness takes over, until her body slumps against him at last. His arms wrap around her, and her arms wrap around him, and as a tangled mess of limbs, they fall into the sheets, breaths hard and hearts pumping and foreheads pressed against each other.</p><p>“Wow,” she whispers.</p><p>“Wow,” he returns.</p><p>For a moment, all they do is lie there, sweaty and exhausted in the most beautiful way. It takes some time until his body complies again. The feeling of leaving her heat is odd, but she draws him into her embrace again right away. Softly, Adrien starts drawing patterns over her back. He can’t hold back a smile.</p><p>“So, Monday?”</p><p>“Monday. I’m in.”</p><p>“Sorry. I don’t know any restaurant that serves dick, though.”</p><p>She snorts, hiding her face on his chest. “That’s okay. We can have dessert at home.”</p><p>God, she is perfect. Laughing, he kisses the crown of her hair. Just lying in each other’s arms, listening for their breathing to slow down, little simple touches on heated skin. He closes his eyes, basking in her presence.</p><p>“You know,” she mumbles against his skin. “I can’t shake the suspicion that Alya and Nino somehow had this planned out.”</p><p>“For – uh – <em>this</em> to happen?”</p><p>She seems to think for a moment. “Nah. They just wanted to get us riled up because of each other, I bet you. Like, laughing their asses off at how awkward this would be.” She coughs. “I mean, no reason at all why they would have been sure of that. It’s not like, ha, I was pining for you for years or anything, haha, nope, not me!”</p><p>“Yeah, uh, me neither. That, um, okay, actually, I kinda was?”</p><p>She doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. And Adrien doesn’t let her move either. Bad move, bad move. Why again did he say that? Is there a way to take it back? Kinda not. Shit.</p><p>It takes endless freezing seconds until Marinette’s voice reaches him again. “For years?” she whispers, sounding so soft his heart gives a thump.</p><p>Okay, too late to get out of this one anyway. “Well … Remember our graduation party? When you wore that absolutely stunning dress that really brought out your eyes? I kinda, um, was distracted the whole evening.”</p><p>Another long second of silence. He is somehow glad she can’t see his reddened face. “Three years,” she concludes. “Oh my … Wow.”</p><p>“Kinda embarrassing, huh? Um, yeah. It’s just –”</p><p>“I wanted you to touch my boobs for years, too. If … if that helps.”</p><p>It does help. A lot, even. He gives a tiny laugh. “Good thing you went proactive there, huh?”</p><p>Sighing, she presses her face harder against his chest, effectively hiding her expression from him. “That was totally stupid, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“Oh, I liked it. Like, a lot.”</p><p>She gives a whiny sound. “I just wanted to remind you that I do have boobs, that’s all!”</p><p>“Not that I needed a reminder, but … I’m really not complaining.”</p><p>“You didn’t, huh?” A discontent hum. “Did you ever even ogle them? Just once? No? Ha, see, I told you.”</p><p>“You want me to tell you that I leered at your chest?”</p><p>“Well, yes, maybe I do!”</p><p>He has to laugh in earnest this time. “All right. I stared at your lovely, lovely boobs. A lot. I thought about them a lot, too. Hell, I even compared them to Ladybug’s.”</p><p>Uh.</p><p>He implores his mouth to stop moving. Now. Of course, his mouth has other plans, dumbly doing whatever it pleases.</p><p>“Stupid, right? Haha, stupid. Not that I have any suspicion – uh, reason, there’s no reason – Ladybug is cool and stuff, but you’re – yeah, you get it, right? Right.”</p><p>Oh god, he didn’t mean to say that. Oh god, his body stops moving entirely.</p><p>“Oh, what. What? Ladybug’s?” she asks.</p><p>“Yeah. They’re pretty similar.”</p><p>“Like, they … look … similar?”</p><p>It must be the afterglow of a perfect experience. It must be the high Marinette’s scent gives him. It must be his stupid brain blacking out for a moment. Still, the words escape him so quickly that all he can do is watch the moment unfold in horror, wishing he could disappear just like that.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, and they feel similar, too.”</p><p>A long moment of silence. A long, dreadful moment of silence. Before he can save this situation, Marinette pushes herself away, staring him in the eye.</p><p>“No,” she says.</p><p>“No, what?” he returns, starting to sweat again.</p><p>“No, I refuse. I refuse.”</p><p>“You refuse … what?”</p><p>“There’s only one person who would – who ever touched – you can’t –” Her lower lip starts trembling. “No!”</p><p>Oh. Oh, and there’s only one person who knows that only one person ever touched Ladybug’s chest. And who also knows who exactly the person touching Ladybug’s chest was. And that is Ladybug. And apparently, that is also Marinette. And that is –</p><p>Oh, well.</p><p>He’s an idiot.</p><p>They stare at each other for a long, long moment. Then, her voice high-pitched, she breaks the silence.</p><p>“Please don’t tell me – whenever you were talking about that girl, you were actually talking about …”</p><p>He stares back at her. “And for years, you were talking about …?”</p><p>She chokes. “I can’t believe it. You chose me over me?”</p><p>“Well, you also chose me over me, so I guess we’re even.” He clears his throat twice. “Serious question, though, now that we’re at it. Do you really think I have the tiniest feet ever?”</p><p>She blinks. Turns on her back. Stares at the ceiling. “I panicked! I panicked. You don’t have the tiniest feet ever, okay?”</p><p>“Phew. Thank god.” He watches her face. “And … do I really look ridiculous in that shirt?”</p><p>With a groan, she hides her face behind her hands for a moment. “No, like I said, you look incredible and yes, I know you don’t have black hair and blue eyes, that was the whole point.”</p><p>“Oh! Oh. I get it now.”</p><p>“Wow,” she breathes. “We’re idiots, right?”</p><p>“We sure are.” He hesitates. Longer, longer. “Glad we got this off our chests, though.”</p><p>She stays silent for a long while. He regrets ever developing speaking skills in the first place, and with that encouraging thought, he turns on his back too, motionlessly and nakedly staring at the ceiling.</p><p>“I mean, we did manage to hold our cards close to our chests for a long time, right?” she tiredly returns.</p><p>And bam, there. If he wasn’t already madly in love with her before, he sure would be now. He can’t suppress the broad grin on his lips for too long. “Yeah. Sooner or later, the cat would have been out of the bag anyway.”</p><p>“Wow. Cliché puns again? I’m disappointed.”</p><p>“Plunging a knife into my chest like that? Bugaboo, that does hurt quite a bit.”</p><p>“Nope, too late. You already lost.”</p><p>They keep staring at the ceiling. Turn their heads to each other. Marinette’s eyes shimmer with something unnamable, and when she reaches for his hand, his heart quivers in the most beautiful way.</p><p>“Monday, dinner,” she whispers. “Tuesday, ice cream?”</p><p>He squeezes her hand and smiles. “Can’t wait.”</p><p> </p><p>Sneakily, Adrien puts the box where it belongs. Ultra-sneakily, he sneaks back to Marinette’s door, wanting to sneakily slip in before a not-so-sneaky voice stops him.</p><p>“Did you defile the Twister mat?”</p><p>He freezes. Marinette freezes. They both turn to the voice. Alya, and behind her Nino, staring at them from Alya’s room. This is just perfect. Just great. Exactly what Adrien totally didn’t want to avoid.</p><p>“We did not,” he provides helpfully. “She had clothes on. Mostly.”</p><p>Marinette very inconspicuously kicks his shin so hard tears shoot into his eyes. “We have no idea what you’re talking about,” she corrects.</p><p>Nino nods. “Dudes, as long as the mat’s disinfected and stuff, it doesn’t matter. After all, Alya and I also –”</p><p>Alya very inconspicuously kicks his shin so hard tears shimmer in Nino’s eyes. “If it’s disinfected, all’s good.”</p><p>Adrien sweats. Slowly, very slowly moves forward. Back to the shelf. Avoiding Alya’s eyes while carefully pulling out the box again and returning to a blanching Marinette.</p><p>Hey, uh, he takes hygiene very seriously, okay?</p><p>“Oh my god,” Alya whispers behind him.</p><p>“Oh my god indeed,” Marinette confirms.</p><p>Acknowledging the following awkward bit of silence, they all nod at each other and hastily close the doors behind them.</p>
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